


While You Weren't Sleeping

by Mostly_Harmony



Category: Sex Education (TV)
Genre: Family Issues, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, POV Alternating, POV Third Person, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-02-09 15:27:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18640879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mostly_Harmony/pseuds/Mostly_Harmony
Summary: When Adam Groff is in a near fatal accident on his way to military school, he ends up in a comatose state for three months in the local hospital. Surprisingly one of his only regular visitors is someone he tormented all through school - Eric Effiong. When Adam awakes, with no neurological damage, Eric finds himself terrified of what Adam might remember hearing...





	1. Collision

**Author's Note:**

> This is an adaptation of the movie "While you were sleeping", as well as some parts of Georgette Heyer books - using characters from Sex Education. All recognisable content is theirs and not mine...
> 
> \---

             There was only one passenger in the car. A young man whose long legs were scrunched in behind the driver. The driver was a man in military uniform, very much at his ease; legs stretched out, one hand on the wheel as he drove, hat tilted low over his eyes so that his face remained in shadow. 

             They didn't speak for the first half hour of the drive. Then, the driver removed his hat and placed it on the empty passenger seat beside him. Looking up he observed his passenger in the back seat through the rearview mirror. 

          Adam Groff might well have been asleep for all the signs of life he gave. His hands were buried deep in his pockets and his long body swayed with the car as they took a corner a little too fast. Only a vein pulsing in his throat revealed any agitation.

            The driver opened his mouth as if to speak, but never had the chance to have his words heard, for at that moment they crossed an intersection where a truck had failed to stop for a red light. There was a crashing and scraping of metal, a hideous cacophony of sound, unlike any other, as the two vehicles collided. As they careened across the intersection together, the screeching of the accident was heard for several blocks until they came to a standstill.

         For Adam Groff and his driver, they were mercifully unconscious to the blood and gore that surrounded them in the caved in structure of shattered glass and mangled metal. The welcome blackness of oblivion had over taken them both.

**2 Weeks Later**

                A young man was strolling down a clinically bare hospital corridor, on his way to Ward 4, Bed 52, where he had been directed by the nurses at reception. He walked delicately, for the red heels of his shoes were very high. A  purple satin shirt hung well on his broad shoulders and his tailored jeans clung to his legs. When he arrived at the door marked '52' some of his swagger fell away and he hesitated. His hands shook a little with nerves as he pushed open the door. 

****

             A uniformed nurse was bustling around the bed when he entered and looked up at him with a smile. "Oh! One of Adam's friends?"

****

          "Uh... yeah... I'm Eric ..."

****

          "Wonderful! I'm so glad you're here. Adam's mum comes to visit in the morning but so far he hasn't had any afternoon visitors and I think it must get a little lonely."

****

            Eric's gaze flickered to the supine figure on the bed. Adam's face looked younger than his sixteen years... it was missing the usual expression of sadness overlaid with restless boredom that Eric was used to seeing.  Seriousness still seemed etched into his features - even in his comatose state. Not for the first time - Eric wondered what on earth he was doing visiting the dickhead.

****

             The nurse was still speaking "-and remember, it's very likely that Adam can still hear and feel things, maybe even see things - when his eyes are open. There is a lot of cases where a person's recovery seems to be aided by family and friends talking to them... so talk as much as you like." She smiled at him again and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

****

            Eric moved closer to the bed, his shoes sounding loud in the silent room. "Uh, I don't know what to say, Adam. I mean, I wanted to talk earlier.... you know... after that detention... but you didn't want to talk about it and... I don't know if you'd even want me to visit."

****

           The other boy's eyes flickered open, still piercing blue, but unfocused and glazed. Eric looked at him for a moment, but there was no sign of recognition. No movement. He relaxed a little and pulled up a chair. "I don't have anything interesting to talk about. But I do know how to talk. I chatter and chatter, Otis says. But actually he can talk as much as me when he gets going. He's been my best mate since we were kids."

****

           Looking at the strong, long-fingered hand lying helplessly on the tightly tucked hospital sheets, Eric found himself reaching out slowly to touch it. He ran his hand lightly along each finger, tracing them as he talked. "You've never really had a best mate... have you? You always hung out with whoever was loudest and meanest... but you mostly seemed alone... even when you were with them." 

****

            Eric swallowed, a flash of memory of those hands undoing his belt, overwhelming him. "I don't get it," he whispered, "I've always been scared of you. You've threatened me so many times... you were always getting in my face... I never noticed how lonely and scared you must be...because I just assumed you were too tough to feel that kind of thing."

****

           "I don't know if you can hear me... but I'm going to keep visiting. 'Cause no-one should have to go without a friend. And you still owe me a conversation. Even if it is one sided for now."

                Eric moved closer and threaded his fingers gently through Adam's unresponsive ones.

                   "Okay, if I've gotta do all the talking I may as well start at the beginning. Ummm... there are two things that l remember from when I was really little. First, l remember being with my dad. He would get these far-off looks in his eye, and he would say, 'Life doesn't always turn out the way you plan'." 

                    Eric felt a smile spread across his face. "Even when I was a toddler he talked to me like that. lt took a long time before I realised he was talking about my life!... But even though we've never understood each other, he was always there for me. It didn't matter how long or hard he'd been working. He would make time to play with me.

             "But my favorite memories are of him and Mum, before my sisters were born. They would take me to church and I'd stand on a chair between them so I could see the choir. Dad never talked much. But Mum would tell me stories, mysterious, magical stories from the country she was born in ... or traditional English fairytales from a kids book she was given when they first moved to the UK... And when I was old enough to understand the romance in the stories l asked my Mum when she knew... that she truly loved my Dad. And she said to me, Eric, your father... gave me a special gift. He gave me the world." 

                 Eric laughed out loud at that. The sound echoed around the bleak room. He used his hand to brush some of Adam's hair back on the pillow and said in a confidential tone. "Actually it was a globe with a light in it. But for the romantic that she is, it might as well have been the world." 

      He looked down at the silent body of Adam Groff and felt strangely bereft. Disentangling his hand he backed away. "Well... I guess I'll see you tomorrow..."


	2. The Afternoon Nurse

        There was a different nurse bustling around Adam's bed on the fourth Sunday morning that Sally Groff had spent with him in Ward 4. She wasn't sure why the new face made her nervous... but then again she had always been a nervous person. The young nurse seemed to sense her jumping at shadows and before she left the room she cast a friendly smile in her direction.

          "He looks like he has a bit more colour today, don't you think Mrs. Groff?"

          Sally looked back at her son and saw the slightest pink in his cheeks. She nodded, but couldn't bring herself to speak to the other woman. The nurse grinned again. "I'm usually on the afternoon shift... I have to say, Adam's boyfriend Eric is the sweetest thing. Here every afternoon rain or shine, holding his hand.  I think I embarrassed him the other day when I came in just as he was giving Adam a kiss goodbye, but it was just the sweetest thing. Young love right? When a kiss on the cheek was the highlight of your day." She sighed contendedly and left the room without realising just how dumbfounded Sally was.

         Her mind didn't seem to be able to function. Adam. Boyfriend. Eric. Kiss? She looked over at the tall boy in his seeming-sleep and brought her hand to her surprised mouth. "Oh!"

            Tears welled up suddenly in her eyes. She thought she had cried herself dry in the days after Adam's accident, but now she could feel the same clammy panic invading her body as she had then. How could they have missed something so significant? As parents of only two children, surely they should know him better than this. Anger towards her husband rose in her chest. She reached out and gripped Adam's hand fiercely.

          "I'm so sorry, Adam. We haven't supported you the way that you deserve." Several tears began to tumble down her cheeks one after the other. "You must have been scared to tell your father... but I wish you had told me.... a-and I wish I had stood up for you better."

               After Adam's accident Sally had alternated between intense grief and irate fury. She blamed herself for letting Mark send Adam away to military school. And she blamed Mark for wanting to be rid of their son. Despite the subservient obedience she had always shown to her husband, she hadn't spoken to him once in the month that followed. Whatever petty tyrannies and cruelties that she had forgiven in the past, none had hurt so much as this.

           She continued to act as his dutiful wife, spending her afternoons cooking his meals, washing his clothes, cleaning his house. But every morning - she sat with her son in the hospital. Seeing his face, devoid of life and expression, cemented her determination not to speak to Mark again, until he begged for forgiveness for what his pushing-away had done to their son. Now though, she thought, perhaps there would come a reason to speak to him. Because at all odds she had to protect Adam from any more pain. If (when! WHEN! Her heart screamed at hee head) Adam woke up, he would find his boyfriend to be a welcome part of the family. Nothing Mark did would possibly stop that from happening. She wouldn't allow it.

              With this in mind, she returned home only long enough to do a very minimal amount of cleaning and leaving a pizza voucher and a phone number on the dining table in place of Mark's dinner she gave Madam a pat and headed straight back to the hospital for the afternoon visiting hours. 

\---

           Eric had rearranged the hospital room so that the only chair was alongside Adam's bed. The bed was lowered as far as it would go, so that when he sat in the chair, he could lean his head on the pillow next to Adam's and talk to him as they dreamily stared at the ceiling together. It made it feel more 'normal'.  
          "Or... at least... I assume you're dreaming. It's kind of weird how little I know about you when we've been in the same class at school for so many years."

He thought for a minute about their past interactions prior to the Detention Room (now a capitalised Event in his mind). Adam's voice had always been soft. Which, now that he thought of it, had made it seem even more threatening! Eric coped better with someone who yelled or shouted out insults from a distance. Adam would come up close to Eric, crowding his personal space, carelessly touching him as he stole food, or snacks or lunch money.

        Eric grimaced.

"Sometimes I wonder why I'm even here..." He muttered, before continuing in his normal tone. "Otis has been basically unbearable since he started  going out with Ola. It's worse than when he was in love with Maeve... because I can't hate Ola - she's too sweet!"

         He was about to launch into a long winded explanation of the latest time Otis had been distracted by Ola and forgotten he was meant to be hanging out with Eric... when a short mousy looking woman came marching into the room and squeaked, "Eric!"

         Eric leapt to his feet, but didn't get a chance to respond because the little lady had rushed forward and threw her arms around him weeping. "I'm sorry! We didn't know he had a boyfriend! Adam and his Dad aren't very close and - and - maybe you were scared to tell us. But you shouldn't be scared... because I'm so glad he found a nice boy like you!" 

          Eric gaped in bewilderment, but managed to return her hug, patting her back awkwardly. "Uh Mrs. Groff... I think you've got the wrong idea... I mean... Adam..."

           Her sobbing breaths calmed a little, and she drew back a bit, tilting her head to look up at him.  "I'm sorry I'm crying. You are a godsend actually. I feel like I've got a little bit of Adam back." She squeezed him tight again, before releasing him and backing away again.

"Well, I should be going." She wiped her eyes and kissed Adam on the forehead before looking back up at Eric. "We didn't get to celebrate Christmas this year, with the accident, and with Jessica being away, so, uh, it would be so nice if you could join us, on Sunday?"  
         
         Eric was horrified, "Oh, um-- Oh, l-l-l would love to, but l, l..."

            "Jessica's going to be there. - She'll be so happy to meet you. - So you'll come?"

           "l, l, l really shouldn't because l have to work."

           "Well, look here. Put your phone number and address down here..." She thrust a pen and paper into his hands, and, aghast, he found himself scribbling down his details.

"Jessica will call you and talk you into it. She is the sweetest thing, you'll really like her."

            "Uh...Okay? Um.... Sorry... Mrs. Groff?"  
             "Yes, dear?"  
             "I just - um - it's just that... ah... I'm really glad to meet you." He finished lamely.       
              She beamed at him, "You too, dear. It's  so wonderful to know you now. See you later. Bye." 

She disappeared back into the corridor and Eric was frozen for several moment before he start bobbing up and down wringing his hands, "oh shit! Oh shit! Oh SHIT! I've gotta talk to Otis!"


	3. A Hand To Hold

           "So, what's the big deal then?"

            "What's the big deal?? Otis, she thinks l'm her future son-in-law! She hugged me SO tight! And if she cried her heart out when she thought Adam had found a 'nice boy', what will she do when she finds out he hates me?" 

             "Well, then, go along with it. And when Adam comes out of the coma, his Mum'll be so happy she won't care that you lied to her. She'll probably even thank you for it."

             "Okay. What if he doesn't come out of his coma?"

              "Well, then who's to know?"

               "l don't know. Oh, no. - Ah."  
   
              "Look, look, Eric. The big part of this story is that Adam gave you a blowjob. That's the messed up bit. The weird his-mum-thinks-you're-his-boyfriend bit... well..." Otis shrugged. "That doesn't seem as bad, to be honest."

             "Oh! Come on, Otis. Otis!" 

            But it was too late. Otis' phone was buzzing and as he read the text he had the dopey look on his face that meant it was from Ola... and that Eric wouldn't get his full attention for the rest of the evening.

            When Eric arrived home, he quickly regretted detouring past Otis' place instead of going straight home from the hospital. As soon as he walked through the door the babble of chatter coming from his sisters stopped abruptly and his Mum came purposefully towards him. Reaching up to put a hand on either of his cheeks, she stared fiercely into his eyes. "I'm so sorry, darling."

         "Uh? What do you mean?"

           "Eric! - Why didn't you tell us? We love you. And we'll love Adam too. We will all be praying for him, that he recovers."  
             With a sinking feeling Eric looked up at the rest of his family, who looked back knowingly.

         His Mum bustled him over to the couch. "Here, sit down. Sally Groff came by to visit us, and invite us to have a special Christmas dinner with them on Sunday after church. Isn't that lovely?"

            "Uh, yeah, yeah, sounds great?"  
           "So, tell us how you met Adam?"  
         " Mum, he doesn't wanna talk about that now, okay?" His sister Mary broke into the conversation.  
         "Why not? We could all use a nice story -"       
          The youngest, Sarah, bounced in her seat. "How do you know it was nice?"

           "Of course it was nice. Why shouldn't it be nice?" Grace argued.  
           "What about that other girl?" Annie said slyly. "What was her name? I heard Adam Groff was dating that rich girl Aimee Gibbs."  
              "The one who lives in that massive house you went to a party at?"  
       
               "The Gibbs family made their fortune selling  bacon."   
           "What's that got to do with the price of eggs?"  
           "All l know is they are pretty high and mighty for people who sell breakfast meat."

           "So, did you-- did you steal him from Aimee?" Annie interposed.  
            "l bet it was love at first sight. Right? l have a sense about these things." 

              "Grace, let Eric tell it."  
              "He is telling it." Grace poked out her tongue at her sister, giving Sarah the chance to take over.

                "l bet he saw you looking all fancy at the Happily Ever After dance and asked you out straight after."

        Eric glanced nervously over at his father who hadn't spoken since he got home. "Uh... I just... um... you need to know that..." 

       Saul Effiong rose to his feet, looking down at Eric with his usual seriousness. He pulled Eric up and wrapped him in a hug all in one motion. "I'm happy for you, son. Happy and sad all at once."  
   
\---

 

             Adam drifted in a strange cloud of fuzzy disorientation. Snippets of the last song he had listened to were playing through his head, interupting the blackness abruptly, but leaving nothing behind.

"Oh my baby now, if you knew (ahh ahh)  
But you only look out for you"

              A flash of pain would intrude, as though his head was being pounded by a heavy hammer. 

"Since you left, I lack direction  
No longer in your protection"

            The sharp stab of a needle and then the blackness blurred into the gray of sleep.

            He woke up to a complete range of sounds. The click of heels on a tiled floor, the steady beep of medical equipment, the whirr of a reverse cycle air conditioner, someone muffling a cough. He tried to open his eyes and turn his head to look for the sources of sound but he was strangely immobilised. Panic began to build in his chest. His heartbeat speeding up, his lungs tightening. Without his sight or movement he felt like he was floating, untethered the world around him. 

     Just as the escalating tightness in his chest was peaking, a warm presence appeared at his side to ground him back into his body. A blunt fingered hand grasped his. Suddenly he could feel the sheets tucked too tight around him. The soft press of someone else's skin on his palm. A sweet citrus scent accompanied his visitor and a low pleasant voice.

            "You would not believe what this weekend has been like. Oh my God!"   

            The voice was familiar, expressive and pulsing with emotion, but Adam couldn't place it. He couldn't tie it in to the jumble of memories of 'before'. But he clung to the sound like a drowning person grips the life ring.

            "Our families are mad, man. Totally fucking mad. I mean, it's like they're all suddenly coming out as Rainbow Alliance members now that they think we've had some kind of grand secret romance going on... well, apart from your Dad. He's still a just a dick."

               Dad. The word anchored a flurry of memories in Adam's mind and he winced inwardly. 

             "Like at that fucking Dinner on Sunday your Dad sits there like some sort of fucking statue while your Mum does EVERYthing. She cooked this massive roast meal, and deserts and got us drinks, and gave everyone a Christmas present! And he just sat there... with a... with a look on his face like he had dog shit on his shoe or something... and was too embarrassed to go clean it off... It was SO weird, I tell you."

             Adam could feel a smile building in his mind even though he couldn't grasp the context of the story. Then the young male voice went quiet. **MORE, PLEASE DON'T STOP**

          As if in response to his silent plea the voice went on. "I nearly told your sister the truth, I swear. But your Mum just looked so happy! And my Mum too... I dunno, it just seems to like they really want to believe that we found each other... and are in... in love or whatever... Your mum said that since she met me, she figures she has you back. Now, if I tell her the truth, eh, it'll take you away again. What the hell am I s'posed to do?"

       The fingers wrapped around his started stroking gently. Tracing up and down and making Adam's skin warm and tingle in response.

          "Oh God, you're going to hate me when you wake up... You'll be pleased to know, your sister doesn't buy it! She was really suspicious of me, and if she gets me talking long enough, I'm pretty sure I'll tell her. But she's only here for a week, so..."

            The sensation of smooth long fingers tangling with his own were comforting and teasing all at once. Adam felt himself wanting to respond, wanting to curl his own fingers around and hold tight...

             "Your grandparents were at the Dinner. Well, you're lucky to have them. I uh-- l mean, I liked them. My Grandad died when I was really young... and, uh, a couple of years ago, my Grandma got sick... and, uh, she moved from here to London so she could go to a research hospital." He snorted. "Research. A medical term for very expensive. And, um, about a year ago, she decided she had had enough research, and she passed away."

              A gentle hand passed through his hair and then continued to stroke his forehead. "Yeah, it was a rough time for me. But Otis got me through -- now he's got a girlfriend... and the Clinic, well, they take a lot of time... and... I dunno... maybe having a boyfriend, even a pretend one is better than being alone."

            "Your Mum has taken me in as part of your family. I'd never want anyone to hurt her. She seems so sweet. And she loves you... her her wonderful only son." He snorted at this. "Rose coloured glasses much?"

           Adam was processing both the delicious sensation of having cool fingers stroking through his hair and the words that his... boyfriend? was saying. It was strange. He couldn't connect the term 'boyfriend' to anything in the churning pool of memories, but it didn't feel wrong for him... just a bit weird. New? Fresh? Maybe only recent?

       He turned his mind towards thoughts of the mother his boyfriend was describing. Memories flowed easily there. She was sweet. Caring. A little beaten down. Timid. But yes. He could remember that she loved him. The security of that love, and the warm affection in the hand that held his cocooned him. He was able to drift into a non-medically induced sleep. As his thoughts blurred and relaxed, the quiet voice spoke on.

"Maybe... maybe why I'm going along with this is that... it's kind of... well... nice. Not nice that you're in a coma! ...but... nice that they all believe you could like me. I mean, my family are pretty realistic usually. But they didn't bat an eyelid... like... 'of-course Adam loves Eric'... like it was a perfectly normal thing."

Adam was already asleep.


	4. Communication

              The cavernous building was chilly; cold despite the warm reds and gold of its opulent decorations. Jessica felt as out of place as she usually did when she attended mass with her parents. But today she wasn't thinking about the abusive patriarchal mysogyny of the catholic church. It was her last day at home before leaving for the new semester, and Eric Effiong had been incredibly evasive. 

            "We pray that the Lord's healing presence... will be felt by those who are sick, and by their families. Especially Jo-Jo Goreki, Peter Callaghan, Adam Groff and Peggy Dunne. We pray to the Lord." The priest intoned.

        "Lord, hear our prayer." They all responded.

          " O God, You call us to live as one family."

            Jessica looked up at her father, seated beside her and said in a quiet voice. "So, who is this Eric?"

              "Save us from the mere, pragmatic views of today."  
              "He's your brother's boyfriend." Mark Groff said tersely.  
   
            "That we may be the proof of Your gentleness."

            "But we only have his word for it. How do we know he's not some kind of weird fuck-"

            " We ask this through Christ our Lord."

            "-who gets off on abusing vegetables? Do you know how many people get abused in our hospitals?"

            "Amen."  
            "Aah, for Christ's sake, Jess."  
            "Stop swearing!" Her mum hissed at them from further down the pew.

            "Look, Dad, the only thing I remember about Eric from school is that Adam picked on him... like - a-a-alll the time. So I find it easier to believe that Eric would use this opportunity to get back at Adam... than that they've been secretly in love!"

              "Talk about this later, okay, Jessica?" Her mum pleaded in a whisper.

                Beth Gorecki leaned forward and whispered in Jess' ear. "Talk about it now. He can't kill you in church." 

              While Jess bit back a laugh at that, an older man she didn't know turned around and said pompously. "Will you please pipe down?"  
           "Hey, be nice, buddy. We're in church." Jess replied.  
             The man screwed up his nose as though biting into something sour. "You're disrupting the Mass!"  
              "Who made you the Pope?"  
              "Jessica!"  
              "Sorry, Mum."  
              "Amen." They chorused together.

           It was clear that neither of her parents were willing to hear her concerns about Adam's 'boyfriend'. Her Mum, because she was genuinely wrapt with idea of his being so loved by someone outside the family. And her Dad, because he was such a cold hearted fuck when it came to anything at all to do with Adam. 

       And maybe her determination to expose Eric as a liar had more to do with her own guilt than logic. When Adam had his accident, her parents had urged her to stay at school until he came out of his coma... and not to change her plans to spend Christmas with her boyfriend's family in Florida. So she had stayed away. Justifying it to herself that she would be on the first flight home if he were to wake up (or -heaven forbid- ...die).

         But this random stranger - Eric - had done what she couldn't. Sat at Adam's side faithfully every day. And here she was, about to go back to school overseas, leaving behind her little brother - again. Helpless.

         After Mass, she made her way directly to the hospital. It was a little early for visitors, but they didn't seem strict about the hours for Adam, so she walked through the doors without waiting and only paused when she came to Adam's open door.

        Eric was already there. 

        He had laid out the deck of cards on the table across Adam's lap, and tilted the bed upwards so that it looked like he was sitting nearly upright. His low voice was cheerful, commentating as he played for both players.  
             "Down and dirty. Are you gonna fold? You're not gonna fold. Ooh, he is staying in with a pair. Very impressive. Very bold, confident."

              Eric laid out his own hand and then grimaced. "I'm always unlucky at cards. You weren't. Member in like, uh, fifth or sixth grade, You were starting to get really good at poker, and, uh, going home with lots of lunch money? l always wondered. Why did you always steal my shitty sandwhich off me, when you were winning everyone else's cash anyway?"

           Eric sighed and took Adams hand in his. Then he stilled. Jessica moved closer to the glass. Was it her imagination? Or had Adam's fingers just moved. She looked up into the expressionless face, eyes closed as though in sleep.

         "Did you just move your thumb?"  
          There it was. An unmistakeable press of the pad of Adam's thumb in the centre of Eric's palm.

Eric leapt up like he'd been stung. "Oh my god! You're -- oh! Oh my god!" 

      Jessica was frozen in place, just watching. He had moved! Eric though was bouncing up and down for a moment before he grabbed Adam's hand again and took two big gulps of air. "Adam - if you can hear me, tap twice for **yes**." 

Jess couldn't see Adam's hand now with Eric standing over him, but from the excited jiggle of Eric's legs she assumed there had been a response.

       "Okay - wow -okay... how about **no**. Um - tap once for no. Uh... Adam, can you see me?" This question was followed bya breathless laugh. "Well, your eyes are closed so... that's not a surprise. Um... Adam, do you know who I am?"

         Jess' wooden legs started to move and she stumbled fully into the hospital room. Eric looked up at her with shining eyes. "Jessica!! He can hear!! And he can say yes and no!! Well kind of!! Oh my god! It's amazing!"

         She was smiling and crying all at once as she approached the bed. Eric guided her hands so that she was holding Adam's with his thumb resting gently in her palm. "Adam? It's Jess... Do you know who I am?" Two firm taps patted onto her palm. The tears that had started seeping out were gushing now. "Oh, Adam! I'm so sorry! For everything! But you're going to be okay. I know it. I'm supposed to be leaving for the U.S. again tomorrow... but maybe, I should stay..." 

         Adam's thumb moved again, firmly pressing just once. "No?"

       There was no response. Eric was beaming at her. "Adam, do you mean - you want Jessica to go back to school?" He asked, looking into the blank face as though answers were going to come from there.

Tap. Tap. **Yes.**

       "Oh, Adam," she whispered. "You've always looked out for me. Even when you should have looked out for yourself. I know Dad tells you to be more like me... but don't. You just need to be you. Don't be afraid to be you."

      She looked up at Eric then, into the dark, sincere eyes and sparkling, honest face. "Also, I'm sorry I was skeptical about your boyfriend. He actually seems like a really good guy, Adam. And I'm so glad you have someone decent to love you."


	5. Maps

So call me stupid, call me sad  
You're the best I've ever had  
You're the worst I've ever had  
And that keeps fucking with my head  
~ HALSEY & YUNGBLUD

\---

         The Effiong dining table felt much more crowded than usual, even though there was actually only one addition. Sally Groff was squeezed in between Mary and Sarah, looking completely out of place --but delighted. As usual, the conversation was fast paced and constant, with everyone talking over each other. Eric ate quickly, hoping he could finish before everyone else and make his escape.

            "So, I've decided where I'm gonna go on on a student exhange. l want to go to Cuba." Grace was saying.

             "Is there even a sister school in Cuba?" her Mum asked skeptically, passing the last plate laden with Sunday lunch to her eldest daughter.  
            "Well... not our school... but I reckon I can find one that does!"

         "Andy Garcia is Cuban." Annie piped up, apropos of nothing.  
        "Didn't Adam look great yesterday?" Sarah asked (mostly to rub in to the others that she'd been to the hospital with Eric most recently).  
         "Oh, um yeah..." Eric said. 

          "You know, he should be an actor. He's tall. All the great ones are tall--" struck in Annie, just as Grace flicked a single green pea into her potatoes. "Eric, you think you can find a nice boyfriend for Grace? Then she might have something better to do than annoy me."

            “That’s enough.” Saul interrupted.  
            “It is! More than enough!” said Annie rebelliously.  
          "Tom Cruise isn't tall--" said Mary, ignoring this interpolation.  
           "Terry Crews is six-foot-three." 

            "These mashed potatoes are so creamy." Grace smiled sweetly at her parents whilst flicking another pea into Annie's carefully colour divided plate.

           "l can never make a good pot roast." Sally Groff put in.  
           "You need good beef," said Saul concisely.  
          "Argentina has great beef. Beef and Nazis," chirped Grace.  
            "Craig Daniel is tall. So is Dwayne Johnson," said Annie, cutting her eyes at Mary.  
           "Daniel Radcliffe is five-five." Mary responded promptly.  
             "Would you want to see Daniel Radcliffe be the next James Bond?"  
               "These mashed potatoes are so creamy."  
             
  "Spain has good beef." Grace said wisely, between mouthfuls.  
              "Tom Hiddleston is tall," said Annie.  
                          "Sarah helped mash them." Lucy Effiong beamed at her youngest.

             "Tom Hiddleston is not Spanish!" Grace stated emphatically.  
              "l didn't say Tom Hiddleston was Spanish." Annie argued.  
              "Well, what did you say?"  
               "l said Tom Hiddleston is tall."  
                "We all know he's tall."  
                "Well, that's what l said. Tom Hiddleston is tall. That's all l said."

                 Adam's chair scraped loudly as he stood up. "Uh, thanks Mum. That was great! I'm just going to go visit Adam--" Two or three of his sisters started to move, "--on my own!" They sat down again glaring at him as he made his escape.

         Visiting Adam now felt a bit like the scene from Jean's favourite movie when Fezzik says to the Man In Black, "You just shook your head... doesn't that make you happy?"  
          It would not have surprised Eric in the least if Adam had suddenly sat bolt upright, when someone commented on how great his thumb wiggling was, and said : My brains, his steel, and your strength against 60 men, and you think a little head jiggle is supposed to make me happy?

 Or... well something along those lines.

          Having Adam's hand in his somehow felt more intimate too now that Eric knew he could hear and feel and respond. Even though he could only answer yes and no questions. Thankfully, at least, when Eric had asked if Adam knew who he was, Adam had only tapped once. **No**. So he continued to hold his hand... and talk to him as though the real Adam --the awake Adam-- would be totally happy to discover he had come out as queer... with Eric.

              Maybe if they had both been better boy scouts maybe he could have come up with a clever morse code system and communicated that way. They could have had whole conversations, unpacked their past, forgiven their differences and decided to make a life together! 

         Unfortunately, that was something a bit too far fetched for real life. Adam had been too much of a rebel to be a boy scout... and Eric... well... being "boyish" about anything wasn't exactly his forte.

           At least now that Otis knew about the Detention Encounter (Eric had since decided that 'Event' was too timid a word to use for it), Eric had someone to debrief with about all his roiling emotions. Not that Otis was enjoying the constant circles he talked in.

           "Our families are having Sunday dinners together!"  
          "Seriously?"  
          "Well, just his mum comes to our place... and usually I go the other week to their place. But still! Is this normal? Do you usually spend this much time with each other's family?"  
          "I don't think anything about your situation is normal, Eric. And I hear a lot of weird stuff."

           "What about when Adam wakes up? If I tell him that I outed him to his family, he'll never speak to me again!"  
            Otis looked at him consideringly, "do you want him to talk to you - do you even like him, Eric?"  
           "Well, I'm not sure! He was always such a dick! But then, sometimes he'd look at me and there was this - intensity and... yes. YES. I wanr him to talk to me. But if Sally finds out I've lies to them..."  
             "Who's Sally?"  
              "Adam's Mum."  
              Otis hiked his bag higher onto his shoulder and hopped onto his pushbike. "Eric, l really don't have time for this."

             Eric grabbed his own bike and pedalled after him. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no. You have to tell me what to do!"  
             "Tell the truth."

               "Otis!" Eric wailed. "lf l tell my family they'll be so upset! They love thinking I have a boyfriend!"  
                 "Eric, this is not how you get a boyfriend. You don't just start visiting someone in a coma."  
                Eric was starting to puff at their pace. " You have to tell me what to do."

               "Oh my god! Pull the plug."  
                "You are sick."  
                "I'm sick? You're in love with the most messed up bully in our school!" 

           Eric rolled to a stop. In love? Coule he actually be in love with Adam? He hated Adam... right?

             School had started back again for the new semester, and Eric felt Adam's absence with a mixture of relief and disappointment. Relief because he was no longer living on edge, expecting to be targetted and singled out by an obvious bully.

        Yet, he couldn't help but feep disappointment, because he was still strung with curiosity after the kisses... and.... everything...

         When he arrived at the hospital after school that Tuesday afternoon, he felt almost shy as he approached Adam's bed. "Hey Adam," he grasped his hand. "Are you awake?"

Tap. Tap. **Yes.**

          "Did your Grandparents come to visit this morning?"  
**Yes**  
              "You know... my Grandma, she didn't speak much English, and I didn't speak much Kinyarwanda. Most of our conversations were in French... which neither of us was great at. But she liked maps. She knew I liked them too... we would pull out the atlas, we'd find a cool far away place and we'd route out this, like, little way to get there. Have you travelled out of the UK?"  
**Yes**  
            "Well, I never have. But if there were one place in the world I'd go, it would be Kibuye... the city my Grandma grew up in. I think Lake Kivu looks amazing... we mapped so many ways to get there... I hope I get to do one of those trips one day." 

              Eric stroked the strong hand he was holding, and found himself biting back tears. "You know... when you wake up... things are gonna be quite different. Call me stupid, call me sad...but even though you've instigated some of my worst experience... you also, well, you've also been the- the-- best I've ever had..." 

********** **

     He looked across at Adam's solemn face. "What we did. Well, it was more than just... I dunno... an event. It was wanting - and accepting - and well... amazing. It was an Encounter that I've never had before." 

********** **

          Eric looked away, "Probably nothing to you though. You've had plenty of encounters like that." Adam's had was very still in his. Too still. Like he was holding it there stiffly. 

********** **

          "I've thought about it a lot... and you probably don't even remember. Or at least you don't recognise me now." 

********** **

       Suddenly the fingers of Adam's hand curled over and held his. Eric's eyes widened as he looked back at Adam--- who was opening his eyes. 

********** **


	6. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   **Bold is Adam**  
>  _Italics is Eric_  
>  ———

             Eric lay face down on Otis' bed. His muffled voice could only just be heard as he lamented his own stupidity. Otis closed the bedroom door and sat gingerly on the end of the bed, patting Eric's ankles in an awkward attempt at reassurance. "So, what happened exactly?"

            “I'm screwed,” Eric said shakily, rolling onto his back but too full of his woes to notice that professional-therapist look on Otis' face.  “He woke up. And his face! It was exactly like it had been every fucking day of my life?”  
             “What is that like?”  
             "Like - like a description of a handsome but heartless gentleman in a recency romance novel!" He flung a hand in the air dramatically, saying in falsetto: "a proud, disagreeable sort of a man, his habitual aspect was one of coldness, and reserve, his smile only a faintly sardonic curl of the lips..."  
               Otis choked back a laugh, and Eric sat up to punch him in the shoulder. "Seriously! He looked at me, with that cold — unemotional -- robot face! And said 'Tromboner?' like he wasn't lying there holding my hand!!!"  
    
            "Hmm...and then you ran off?"  
            "What else was I supposed to do? Stay and talk it through?? Yes, I ran away! By now, his mum will have been called in to see him, and she'll know it was all a- a- farce! And she'll call my mum --and I am NEVER EVER going to live this down!" This final wail disappeared into a muffled warble as Eric threw himself back down on the pillow.

             Just then his cell phone buzzed. Eric froze. "Oh, shit. They know already. Can you check my phone?"  
          Otis groaned. "It's in your back pocket right? Do you just wear jeans this tight so you can grope yourself whenever you need a pocket?"  
         "I'm having a crisis here, Otis! Help me!"

           A slightly uncomfortable few seconds later... "Uh, Eric? Did you put your number in Adam's phone?"  
           Eric sat bolt upright and snatched the phone back.

   **So, who knew you had it in you, Tromboner?**

           He looked up at Otis with wide eyes. "Oh my god. What do I say??" He didn't wait for a reply before typing. 

_Uh, what do you mean?_  
   
**Taking advantage of a guy in a coma? Next it'll be necrophilia...**

  _Hey! I never touched you!_

  **I seem to remember a great deal of hand fondling...**

  _Fuck off, you know what I mean..._

Otis was looking over his shoulder, reading along when the speech bubble went dead. Adam wasn't typing a reply.

 _Well? What did she say?_

**Who?**

  _Your Mum! When you told her!_

  **I didn't tell her.**

  _What do you mean? You didn't tell her that we're not actually dating?_

  **No. Why should I? The story came from you. You fix it.**

_WHAT?_  
   
  **You tell 'em**

  _Seriously? I wanted to tell them from the beginning but I CAN'T! I'm not a heartless piece of shit!_

  **Like me? You mean**

          Eric sat still for a moment. Otis patted him on the shoulder. "Hmmm, you walked right into that one didn't you?"  
           "How come you help all your clients with their relationships --but have nothing to say to help me??"  
            "None of my clients have ended up in a fake relationship with their school bully while he was in a coma!"  
             
  _You’ve always been pretty un-emotional_

            He looked to Otis before pressing send, but his friend just shrugged. "This is all you Eric. I've got no ideas for this situation." 

  **Unemotional huh?**

           "Yes! And a useless, miserable fucking bastard...but I suppose saying that is not going to help... ummm.... I'll try taking a different tack." 

_I’m sorry. Okay? I'm sorry I just went along with the story. But you're awake now! The truth is better coming from you anyway_

  **Don’t get soppy Tromboner**

  _It's Eric!_

**Yeah sure, maybe I'll just call you T for short. It can be your pet name**

_What the fuck, Adam?_

  **You can explain where your nickname comes from to Mum when you visit me tomorrow**

_WHAT?_

  **If you're not gonna tell them, then they'll find it a bit weird if you stop visiting now I'm awake**

_Yeah, but..._

  **Like I said, it's your problem T. You figure out how to fix it.**

        The phone went silent again. "Oh my god! He's impossible!" Eric shouted, throwing the phone on the bed and pacing the length of the room.

        Otis was watching him with dawning comprehension. "And yet... you _like_ him! What is wrong with you Eric?"

           "I don't know, okay? You're seriously the  _worst_ at --at therapy-ing me!! Why do I like him Otis!! He doesn't make any sense!"

\---

           "Eric? You're here? Hi, Mary, Sarah. Oh, this is great! The whole family! Come on in, you guys!" Sally Groff was holding open the door to Adam's room, her cheeks were glowing and her eyes bright with happiness. 

           Eric shuffled in nervously followed by his family and the room was immediately crowded. Headmaster Groff stood to one side looking suitably dour. 

             "Adam, look who's here? Eric! And you haven't met his sisters yet right? This is Mary and that's Sarah."

          The younger girls bounced forward while Eric hung back and only then did he allow himself to look at Adam. He was sitting up in bed, looking very much himself but as he reached out a hand to shake Sarah's  there was an expression on his face that Eric had never  seen. A smile that not only softened the austerity of his usual seriousness but lit his dark eyes with a gleam of genuine amusement. "Hi, Sarah. Hi, Mary. I remember you guys visiting me. It's nice to see faces though."  
            The girls both beamed, and Eric's mouth dropped open.  
             The rest of his family moved forward for introductions and to express their delight that he was awake. Sally was shuffling through a stack of envelopes, "here it is, this is from Uncle Al...:      

                She passed a card to Adam who opened it while saying mildly. "Who the hell is Uncle Al?"  
          "Uncle Al. You know, Uncle Al from Buffalo," his grandmother put in.  
          "You remember Al. Auntie Rosa's ex husband. He was here for your confirmation--"      
            Adam shook his head.  
     
            Sally turned to her husband, "You remember Uncle Al, don't you?"  
             "Yes, of course. He had a little moustache."  
              Sally smiled, "yeah! He did!"  
              Adam put the card aside, "l know an Uncle Ed."  
              "No, Uncle Al."  
   
               "Can you eat real food yet?" asked Mary, curiously.  
                   "Yeah, my body isn't used to it yet so I've gotta take it slow --but food is so good!" And there it was again. That smile. Eric could feel his heart skip a beat at the sight of it.

                 Until Adam looked up and caught him staring. His lip curled sardonically. Sarah thrust out the brown paper bag she was carrying, "Mum and I baked you cookies!"  
              Sally took the bulging bag. "Oh, sweetheart, thank you. lt smells so good! I'll go get a plate from the nurses station."

                 She bustled towards the door and then seemed to change her mind. "Mark, darling, can you take these and put them on a plate for us to share?" Eric watched, a little awestruck, as Headmaster Groff acquiesced and disappeared out the door. Sally took Eric's arm and drew him closer to the bed, "I'm so glad you were here when Adam woke up yesterday! Your support has really helped him pull through, I'm sure of it!" 

            Eric shifted uncomfortably, "uh, Mrs. Groff,  l didn't wanna tell you this, but..."  
            Sally looked up at him, eyes gleaming -- "you don't actually like my trifle do you?"

            "I'm sorry, what?"  
             "Sarah told me. You've been pretending to enjoy my trifle every time we have you over when in truth, you hate it."  
             "Uh, well..."  
              "It's true," Mary interjected. "Eric's always hated trifle!"  
                Sally laughed freely. "Now I know, I promise I'll make a different dessert when you come for dinner. What do you like?"  
                "He likes brownies and icecream!"  
                "Let him tell her."  
                 "He is telling her. He also loves lemon meringue pie."  
                Sally laughed again, "I can always trust you to tell me everything, Sarah."  
               Sarah grinned up at them.      
                        "Seems like you could teach your brother a thing or two, Little Miss." Adam said, reaching out and ruffling Sarah's curly hair, "hey, T?"  
         Eric glared at him, but Adam just looked back with an unreadable expression.

         Annie was glued to the small tv suspended above Adam's bed. "Jazz and soul music hasn't been the same... since Amy Winehouse died."  
            Grace looked up at the band that was playing. "l love a clarinet. You know, nobody plays a clarinet anymore."  
                "Amy Winehouse didn't play the clarinet."  
                 "l didn't say Amy Winehouse played the clarinet."  
               "Adam plays the french horn." Sarah confided.  
               "Oh, I thought it was the trombone?" Adam replied, cutting his eyes at Eric.

          "You know," Sally said, giving a sigh of happiness as the conversation flowed around them. "l fell in love while you were sleeping, Adam."

           "You fell in love? With who?"  
           "The Effiongs," happy tears were welling up in her eyes. "I was here all alone, thinking my only son was going to die. Your sister was far away, your Dad so busy with work. And then, suddenly I was part of this family! l went from being all alone to being... squished in the middle of all this love and affection... I actually have people to cook for!"

            Headmaster Groff reentered the room and began passing around the plate of cookies. His wife continued, "Eric might have saved your life by bringing you out of your coma. But you know what? They really saved mine, too. They allowed me to be a part of their family, and that was something I really needed."

           All the female members of Eric's family  converged on Sally, crying, hugging and talking over one another, pushing the three silent males to hover around the head of Adam's bed. Eric turned to look at him. "See!" He whispered. "It's impossible!"  
            Adam's eyes were on him but his face was expressionless... which was... ominous.

           As the noise died down, Adam cleared his throat and announced, "while we're doing emotional speeches, I think T has something he wants to say."  
          Every eye in the room was suddenly fixed on him. Eric's heart sank. How could he possibly do this?  
           "Ummmm... yeah... you see... I'm not very good at this..."

           Sarah bounced up and down on her toes. "C'mon Eric! You've gotta tell us your love story! We all wanna know how you met?"  
             "l bet you fell in love first. Right? Adam would be too sensible for love at first sight." 

              "Grace! Let him tell it!"  
               "He IS telling it Annie!"  
                 Sally laughed out loud. "What was it about Adam that, you know, that first struck you?"

           Complete silence followed that, and Eric spoke without thinking. "lt was his, uh, smile."

           "They're caps. Six hundred bucks a tooth." Headmaster Groff said, unemotionally.  
            "Shh," Sally frowned at him, then turned an encouraging expression back to Eric.

          "Well, um-- We saw each other, and, um... he, uh, smiled. And-- And l knew that... my life would never be the same."

         "Oh, that's so beautiful!" All the women crowded around Eric now to hug him and he didn't get a word in edgewise for the rest of the visit.


	7. Cruel

  **Bold is Adam**  
_Italics is Eric_  
———  
I could have told you ‘bout the long nights  
How no one loves the birds that don't rise  
So you can tell the heroes go hide  
My sense of wonder's just a little tired

But if only you could see yourself in my eyes  
You'd see you shine, you shine  
I know you'd never leave me behind  
But I am lost this time  
Are we destined to burn or will we last the night?  
I will hold you 'til I hold you right  
But if only you could see yourself in my eyes  
You'd see you shine, you shine

~ DERMOT KENNEDY  
\---  
             
                Adam sat back against his pillows, exhausted from his brief walk around the hospital room. He fished out his phone and typed out the message that had been circulating in his mind since the day before when Eric and his family visited.

**My smile, hey?**

                 The response was lighting quick and full of frustrated emotive emojis.  
_I didn't say you changed my life for the better!_  
   
                  Adam felt a smile tug at his lips. **You realise you did the opposite of clearing up this mess...**

  _Hey! I think we've established how cowardly I am! If you want to crush your mum's dreams go right ahead..._

  **Hmmm...**

  _Seriously, how can we tell her the truth after her little speech??_

                Adam stared blankly into the distance. He wasn't sure he had ever seen his mother so happy as she had been since he woke up. **She has really adopted your family, hasn't she?**

  _Yeah..._ The phone went quiet for a moment, then buzzed again.

  _So...don't take this the wrong way...but...shouldn't you be freaking out more? That she thinks you're gay? You seem very calm about that part of the scenario..._

               Adam snorted out a humourless laugh.  
**I've had a few months to get used to the idea.**

_About that..._

Another pause.

 _...how much do you remember from in your coma?_  
   
**Well... I remember your passport story...**  
   
Adam could nearly hear Eric's response in the silence that followed. In his minds eye he saw the horrified expression and heard the "shit! Shit! SHIT!"

  **You told me all about that. lf there were one place in the world where you'd go. About how you keep your passport with you just in case you need to quickly leave the country...**

  _Right. Right. RIGHT! I get the point! No need to go over everything I might have said!_

**You're never gonna live this down, you know that right, Tromboner...**

  _*sigh* ...when have you ever let me live something down?_

  **Fair point.**

_God! I think I liked you better in a coma..._

**I've had a near death experience... not a personality transplant...**

As he finished the message, he felt his hands begin to shake. How could he possibly put into words what had happened to him?  
   
When everything was broken, when nothing made sense and he was floating in a sea of uncertainty, Eric had kept ahold of his hand.

As the days of his paralysis progressed he needed the rhythm of Eric's visits to anchor him, to make sense of time passing. No-one else spoke to him so sincerely; Adam never wanted him to leave. When he left, Adam would drift again, panicked, trapped in his weighted body. The invasive, clinical, coldness of the medical staff; the desperate sadness and forced cheerfulness of his mother; the complete absence of his father. All of this was bearable because of the warm, kind voice of his 'boyfriend'.

But what could he say now?

" I was lost 'til I found you" ?  
" Keep your hand inside of mine" ?  
" I don't wanna say goodnight" ?

           Every fucking true thing he could say was impossible. He wasn't some kind of poet, or folk singer. He was Adam Groff. It was ridiculous to be in love with a boy that he had spent his school years tormenting! 

        As the afternoon progressed, his thoughts grew more tangled, and as the time of Eric's usual visit grew closer he found his hands were clammy and his heartbeat erratic. When the door to his room opened a few minutes earlier than usual he looked up with a surprise that abruptly shifted to dread when he saw his father entering the room, alone.

         Mark Groff walked forward with a precision that elicited a visceral fear in his son.  His eyes were distant. His hands calmly laced behind his back. His voice emotionless.  
           "You remember what I told you, before you left for military school, Adam?"  
           Adam couldn't bring himself to nod, or respond. He fought down the feeling of weighted paralysis that was overtaking him in repsonse to his father's proximity.

           Mark Groff pinned him with an intense look. "Nothing has changed. Let me reiterate. Nothing has changed."

           Adam sucked in a breath and willed the tears to stay down. The dry prickling at the corners of his eyes didn't bode well.

         "You see, I had come to terms with your coma." He looked away, walking towards the single window and looking out as he continued to speak. "I would have come to terms with your death."

         The word plunged into Adam's chest like a sharpened blade. He was thankful that his father's gaze was turned away because the prickling in his eyes was no longer dry, and he had to blink rapidly to disperse the moisture.

           "What I can not come to terms with, is that you have spectacularly failed in every task I have ever set for you. You couldn't even make it to military school.... your mother won't let me send you away again, and I won't attempt to. But you will not be welcome back at Moordale. You will have a room in our house until you turn eighteen... but I wash my hands of you."

        Adam scrubbed at his face just before his father turned away from the window.

        "You know, finding out about your gay, black, lover came as no surprise, to me, whatsoever. You couldn't have picked anyone more likely to crush my hopes for your future."

       And just like that, all of Adam's demons came rushing in. His fears, his inadequacies. He was drowning in them. 

       The door opened again and Eric walked in. Eyes bright, clothes brighter.

        That brightness decided him. He couldn't allow it.

          The permanent truth, that Adam failed everyone, and destroyed everything around him, sank like a stone into the heart swollen with love for Eric. He couldn't ask someone so kind and giving to be cruel. Cruelty was Adam's forte' after all.

          There was no way to get through this easily, so he just had to do it quickly, like ripping off a bandage. He slid his legs off the side of the bed and stood as casually as possible, looking straight into the beautiful dark eyes and kind face of Eric Effiong.

            "Check it out, T., I can stand up now. I can make my own decisions. And I don't want to be your fucking boyfriend anymore. Don't cry too hard will you?"

           The three women who had walked in behind Eric gasped, but he simply froze, the smile dropping from his face as he turned and walked straight back out.


	8. Little Sister

  **Bold is Adam**  
_Italics is Eric_  
———

            Back home, with his bedroom door shut tight, Eric let his simmering emotions erupt. He knew it was silly to feel hurt. After all, Adam had just extricated him from the whole fake boyfriend scenario without revealing Eric's dishonesty. Eric came out looking angelic, and Adam - an asshole. Which was pretty accurate if you thought about their general history.

            So Eric should feel grateful. He shouldn't feel disappointed. He hadn't _really_ believed the fragile thoughts that maybe Adam enjoyed being his boyfriend... that he was secretly glad about the mix up. Of-course not. And if he had spent a ridiculous amount of time choosing his outfit for that hospital visit, and blue eyeliner to make his eyes pop, well, no-one had to know.

           An insistent tapping on his door dragged him out of his gloomy thoughts. 

"Who is it?"  
"Sarah."  
"l'm not here." 

            There was a pause, then her cheerful voice sang out, "l know that trick!" as she opened the door and marched straight in. With any of his other siblings Eric would have kicked up a fuss and pushed them out of the room. But this diminutive eight year old was a force of nature he rarely went into battle with. And she could actually be quite a bit more mature and comforting than his other sisters when he was feeling low.

        Sarah's pigtails bobbed as she darted across the room and sat down cross legged in front of where he was slumped on the floor, head on his knees.

" Look, Eric, l, um-- l just wanted you to know that I told Adam he was being a flippin' moron." She said with a scowl.  
"Sarah!"

              "Well, he deserved it! After you walked out, Sally started crying and Mum was hugging her, and I just went straight up to Adam and told him. It's the truth! Plus, l think you two are a, a- really terrific couple, and, uh, I don't reckon it'll be long before you're back together. Sally agreed with me. She nearly shouted at Headmaster Groff--" Sarah jumped up and did a passable impersonation of Mrs. Groff's soft voice, "What did you say to him, Mark? I leave you alone for ten minutes --and--and! Can't you see, you keep making him behave like this?"

             Eric reached up and grabbed the finger Sarah was shaking in imaginary Mr, Groff's face. "Don't tell me! I feel bad enough already! Look. Sarah. Sit down. If I tell you something, can you just keep it to yourself?"

         She sank to the floor and looked at him curiously, nodding. 

          "The day that I met Sally at the hospital. Well, um, there was a little mix-up. Um, l was visiting Adam every day, and, uh, l held his hand and talked to him. But , um, the-- I dunno, someone told Sally that l was his boyfriend. Only, um-- Oh. It's not true. l was never going out with Adam."

             "I don't believe it."

            "Well, then you see why it was so hard to tell the truth! Because l couldn't even explain why I was visiting Adam!  We were never even friends! And the one time that -- well... it doesn't matter."  
   
           But Sarah's ears had pricked up at that last part.. she leaned forward and forced him to look at her, "what one time? C'mon Eric, there has to be more to the story."

           Eric put his hands over his face. "Oh my god, Sarah, you better keep this bit a secret! But... we were in detention together, before his accident... And, um, it's just when we were in detention, we fought and then... well, he, uh,  kissed me! I still don't get it! Everything happened so fast. And we never talked about it. You know? No. No-- of-course you don't. You're eight!"

               "Hmmm, that makes more sense." Sarah had a knowing look on her face that was almost smug.  
              "Oh, it does, does it?" Eric snapped. "I don't think any of this makes sense!"

                  "That's because you haven't seen how he looks at you when he thinks no-one's watching."  
               Eric leapt up, annoyed. "And you have? Have you? You've only ever seen him awake once!! Apart from when he was 'breaking up with me!"  
               She just smiled. Waiting patiently for his mood to fluctuate again. Which it did within moments. Eric sank on to the bed and looked across at her. Fiddling with his bedcovers. "What do you mean? What? How does he -- How did he look at me?"

             "Like he's seen forty delicious flavours at the Ice Cream Farm for the first time."

            "Aw, Sarah, what would you know? You're eight years old." He scoffed, but his voice was gentle and he couldn't hold back a small smile.

             The little girl smiled back cheekily, her cheeks round and eyes squishing up into laughing half moon's. "I'll keep the secret... but I think he _likes_ you!" 

            As she left the room, Eric pulled out his phone and stared at it for a moment before typing.

   
_And you call ME dramatic! Was that show really necessary? (Perfectly timed by the way, so many witnesses!)_

The response wasn't long in coming, but Eric was sweating with nerves by the time his phone beeped.

**Tell me you were doing a better job sorting out your mess? Simple, but effective. The Adam Groff Guarantee.**

_How did your Mum take it?_

**Hmmm, she's been happier, sure. But she's pretty hopeful that if I beg your forgiveness I can win you back...**

_I hate the thought of your Mum being unhappy..._

**And what are you, the happiness guru, Eric? Are you happy?**

_What do you know about me? Spending your school days picking on me did not make you an expert.  
_

**Even so... you can't be happy being a gay black guy in a sea of heterosexual white guys at Moordale. Your only friend is the weird Sex Therapist kid.**

           "Oh my god, Adam, that's low!!" Eric said aloud, letting his fingers type out the most hurtful response he could think of.

   _At least I have a friend!_

        With a huff of irritation (and only a tinge of regret) Eric turned off his phone and put it on his desk, glaring at it. Why did he bother? Adam had always, and would always be, such a dick.


	9. Rooftop

Wasn't it love as soon as we knew each other properly?  
Livin' 'bout half right 'til a certain person got to me  
Nothin' is secret, everythin's sacred, how it ought to be  
Under the moonlight on a clear night  
On rooftops is where I want to be  
Sometimes I'm like a child, that's somethin' I can't release

Dreams of comin' home, sweet home  
And I'm tellin' you, home is so sweet  
~ DERMOT KENNEDY  
\---

             Eric stubbornly refused to be the first one to make contact again, so fifty different versions of a text sat in his drafts unsent, and of-course Adam didn't write either. The weeks passed, and it would have seemed like those months had never occurred at all, except that Sally Groff was still very much part of their lives. She had even started eschewing mass with her husband in favour of going along to the Effiong's church. It was kind of bizarre seeing the timid, bland, beige, white lady in the midst of the noisy, colourful Africans. Yet somehow, she was completely accepted and welcomed.

             So Eric kept track of how Adam was going. He was out of hospital now. He hadn't returned to school or to his parent's house, but a family friend had offered him a carpentery apprenticeship and Sally's cousin had a flat above their garage that she had organised for Adam to move into. She never spoke out against her husband to the Effiongs, but her mistrust of his influence on Adam was apparent in the way that she kept them apart.

         Anyway, Eric barely had time to think about Adam anymore (and so he told himself the hundred times a day that Adam crossed his mind). Ola had helped him get a job at the supermarket - and if she was motivated to pull some strings on his behalf because she could spend his shifts with Otis without any whinging from Eric? Well, no-one was complaining. 

            With some of his new wages Adam decided to pay for music lessons. He really wanted to make progress with the French Horn, and no amount of practicing on his own seemed to be helping. His music tutor lived a short walk away from the bus stop near the supermarket where he was working. So after a short shift on a Thursday Eric lugged his French Horn case over to the old lady's house and squeezed himself in between her many cats, hoping desperately that the improvement in his playing would be worth the cat hair on his clothes.

             He was heading back to the bus stop in the early evening when he came to an abrupt standstill, his feet felt glued to the ground. Walking towards him, silhouetted in warm yellow from the setting sun was the unmistakeable figure of Adam Groff. 

           Instead of a the usual denim jeans, jacket and grey hoodie of Eric's memory; he was dressed in dusty overalls and carried a satchel over one shoulder. His gold medallion gleamed at his throat above the white singlet he wore under his overalls. Eric was still frozen solid. Adam hadn't seen him yet, and his first instinct was to flee, but his traitorous body wouldn't move.

             Then Adam looked up, and for just a second his eyes glowed as though he was about to smile. The smile. And then it was gone, perhaps it was just the sun in Eric's eyes.  Adam halted in front of him and looked him up and down coolly, his face impassive. "So. T..."

            "Uh, Hi! How you doin? A-a-adam?"  
             Adam raised his eyebrows slightly.  
            Eric found himself babbling to fill the silence. "Fancy seeing you here? Huh? What, um, what are you up to? What a coincidence, hey? Haha, how funny to meet up... um, yeah..."  
             There was still no response in the expressionless face, but the corner of his mouth twitched. "Hmmm... yeah... I take it you want to come up?" He motioned towards the house Eric was standing in front of, then turned into the driveway and began walking away. 

            Eric's feet suddenly came unstuck and he found himself scurrying after the taller teenager, his tongue as loose as ever. "This is where you live? Honestly, I didn't know! I was just at a music lesson! This old lady, um, she has lots of cats, and her house is just, uh, over there, and..."

          Adam was unlocking the garage door and stepping in without looking back. The door stood open, and Eric followed him through without thinking too hard about what he was doing. He followed Adam up a circular, steel staircase that wound it's way up above the garage and found himself in an apartment brightly lit by the last rays of the sun. Large windows looked out towards the tall trees that stood between the main house and this building. 

           The apartment looked like it had been newly renovated, with floating timber floors, a modern kitchenette and a collection of furniture that looked like it had been bought out of a catalog. All pale wood and gray fabrics, made to look elegant as a set, but with no real warmth or personality. Apart from the unmade bed under a far window and a few scattered piles of dirty clothes there was nothing personal to identify this space as Adam's home. It felt quite lonely.

            Eric hesitated at the top of the stairs. 

             "Don't just stand there," Adam called,  rummaging in the fridge. "You want a coke?" 

            When Eric didn't respond, Adam turned to look at him, his gaze unsettling. His eyes were a burnished brown, wide and thoughtful and impossible to read. 

              "I'm just, you know, not sure if you knew I had come up," Eric said, cautiously moving closer to the kitchen, "I honestly didn't know you were living here." 

                Flicking open a can of soft drink Adam gave a gruff laugh. "That right, T?" he inquired. "You're not in the neighbourhood to visit me? What, do you go visit that cat lady most days?"  
                  Eric felt himself tense with a swift surge of irritation. "No. It was my first lesson. But, yes, I'll be 'visiting the cat lady every Thursday."  
                  Adam had prowled closer, his gaze even more direct. He held out one can to Eric, who took it, mesmerized by whatever power Adam had in his eyes. 

              "Well, since you're here," he murmured, "c'mon..."

              Eric's heart skipped a beat, then sped up as Adam moved even closer. But the taller boy just brushed past him and tugged open the nearest window. Climbing through the frame onto a narrow ledge. He shimmied along the ledge and looked back, laughing up at Eric with an expression that seemed to owe as much to derision as mirth. "I don't smoke inside, Tromboner, come up on the roof."

             Then somehow, without letting go of his drink, Adam braced his feet on the midpoint of the window frame. His long legs disappearing out of sight as he hauled himself up. 

            Eric followed with a great deal more trepidation and with none of the grace, spilling half of his drink in the process. "Oh my god, Adam. This is, uh, really quite high!"

            Lazing on his back on the slanted roofing panels Adam looked completely at ease. His drink balanced in the guttering near his feet, he was lighting a cigarette. The sun had just dropped behind the horizon and a pale moon was rising opposite them, still low above the treeline. Eric suppressed a shiver as he clattered ungracefully over the rooftop towards Adam and slid into position beside him. A little too close. But it would be too obvious if he moved further away now, so he would have to brazen it out. "God, I don't know any other sixteen year olds who have their own apartment! I'd kill for a place like this!"  
   
          Adam took a drag on his cigarette and glanced sidelong at him. "Seventeen."  
           "Huh?"  
           "I'm seventeen."  
            "Oh." Eric took a sip of what was left of his drink. His skin was prickling and aware, all down his left side, with Adam only inches away from him.  
           Inches away. Awake. Eric coughed nervously.  
           "Do they bother you, T?" he asked, taking another drag and switching the cigarette from his right hand to his left.  
           "Ah, no, well, not really. But you know they're not good for you right? I mean, you nearly died. I'd think you'd want to take care of, uh, of y--your--self.." He came to a stuttering stop. Adam had lowered his empty right hand down in the space between them, brushing it gently against Eric's hand and sending sparks of sensation tingling up his arm. He sent a startled glance sideways, but Adam was looking away.

         Eric found his gaze caught, a descriptive phrase from a romance he'd been reading running through his head. 

_The gentleman was very tall, with a good pair of legs, fine broad shoulder, and a lean, harsh featured countenance with an uncompromising mouth and extremely hard brown eyes._

         Those eyes turned towards him, finding him staring. That mouth quirked slightly on one side. Holding his gaze, Adam gently put the cigarette between his lips and sucked. 

         Eric swallowed. Hard.

         He couldn't look away. 

         The fingers brushing gently against his own now tangled into his, palms pressed together. Adam's strong fingers felt familiar and yet so different. There were new callouses , that hadn't been there before, but the main change was the movement. Holding an unconscious boy's hand was very, very different from this. Eric's mouth suddenly felt dry and he pressed his lips together, his tongue darting out to moisten them.

        Adam's eyes flickered downwards following the movement of Eric's tongue. Then he was moving. Bracing their clasped hands on the roof beside them he swung his body onto Eric's. The lit cigarette in his left hand pressed against the rooftop; the can in Eric's right hand slid out of his distracted fingers and tumbled down the rooftop into the gutter, where it lay, slowly sending a drizzle of fizzy brown liquid down the drainpipe. Eric looked up into the cool brown eyes and, as Adam lowered his head, decided that perhaps his mouth wasn't so uncompromising after all.


	10. Acid to Alkaline

I'm just thinking all these thoughts up in my mind  
Talking love but I can't even read the signs  
I would sell my soul for a bit more time  
You stain all on my body like you're red wine  
You're the fucking acid to my alkaline  
You run your middle finger up and down my spine  
I'm sorry there was no one to apologize  
I'm so fucking sorry, I'm so fucking sorry

And yeah, I've seen you in my head every fucking day since I left  
You on the floor with your hands 'round your head  
And I'm down and depressed  
All I want is your head on my chest  
Touching feet in my bed  
~ Halsey & YUNGBLUD  
\---

               By the time they left the rooftop, the failing daylight had disappeared, and the ghostly pale light of the moon threw weird shadows along the ground. Eric felt weak, almost tipsy. The heat and strength of Adam's body pressing into his was intoxicating. But his kisses... Adam had kissed him once before, but that had been nothing compared to this. 

       He seemed too practical, too unpolished, to spend time on making out. Yet that was exactly what they had done. Kissed until their chins were scratched from one another's stubble (admittedly Eric's 'stubble' was barely to blame). Eventually, just the warmth and sweetness of kissing was enough to tip Eric over the edge, his desire and  arousal so fierce that he couldn't hold back the shuddering release. He was embarrassed for only a couple of seconds until he realised that Adam was similarly overcome. 

            As they chambered back through the window and into the well lit room, a rush of sheepish shyness hit Eric hard. He snatched up his phone, reflexively, as though the process of checking it might make him look more casual than he felt : then noticing the time all dissemblance fell away. "Shit, shit, SHIT! The last bus leaves in two minutes!"

            Scrambling for his music case and rushing towards the stairs, Eric halted at the sound of Adam's lazy voice. "You won't make it, you know."

              "What am I going to do? I have to try!" Eric expostulated, already two steps down the spiral.  
               Adam looked at him emotionlessly from under heavy lidded eyes and shrugged. "You can stay here. Just tell your Mum you're at the Sex Therapist's."

                With that he turned and began rummaging through the fridge with one hand, while the other fiddled with his phone and a pounding music began to play from speakers set somewhere in the room. Eric stood frozen at the top of the stairs. His last missed bus experience was running through his mind, alongside processing the total lack of concern - or even interest - on Adam Groff's face as he calmly went about slopping some premade pasta sauce into a bowl.

            "Uh, are you sure that would be okay? Um, I mean you don't mind? If I stay?"

          Even though Adam was so expressionless, he seemed to fill the room, as he blandly surveyed Eric, his brown eyes looking calm and bored. "Doesn't bother me." He withdrew a second bowl from a drawer. "Pasta?"  
        
       "Oh... yeah, thanks, I'm starving actually." Eric took the two steps back up and replaced the French Horn case on the floor. Faking a casual confidence he didn't feel, he called his Mum with a brief and unexceptional explanation of why he was spending the night at Otis'. "Yeah Mum, I know I've got school tomorrow. Yeah.... Mu-u-um! I'll be fine. See you then." He hung up a little guiltily and looked up to find Adam's eyes on him. 

          Adam cocked a knowing eyebrow. "You're not a great liar, T." he said. "Makes me wonder how you pretended to be my boyfriend for two months?" 

           Eric could feel himself firing up, that instantaneous shot of anxiety and anger that Adam had always brought out in him. He opened his mouth to speak, but then, narrowing his eyes he looked more closely at that stern jaw. The sternness was familiar, but the slight softening of amusement around his lips was not. Biting off his initial response, Eric asked instead, "Why do you do that?"

          "Do what?" asked Adam, innocently.  
           "You know what," said Eric, tartly. "You bait me! You know it will make me angry!"

            A pot was on the stove now and the water in it began to bubble lightly. "Well," Adam responded evenly. "You're cute when you're worked up. Mad or scared. I've never been able to resist."

            On that startling declaration, Adam turned away to open another cupboard and grab a bag of pasta. Eric stared at him with his mouth open. "What is wrong with you? You bullied me for years because I'm _cute_?!"   
             Adam flashed him an inscrutable glance. "How else was I going to talk to you everyday?"

          The imperturble voice was exasperating beyond anything! There was a slight pause as Eric grappled with this. "Couldn't you have just been friendly?? Seriously, Adam, you're fucking messed up!"

          "Yeah," he shrugged, his voice as unruffled as ever. He shook the pasta shells into the boiling water and put the bowl of sauce into the microwave.

           Mystified, on edge, but overwhelmed by curiosity Eric approached him cautiously. "Adam. Be serious. How long have you liked me?"

          There was a quick contraction of his eyebrows, but his face smoothed before he met Eric's eyes. "A better question is. Why are  you so desperate for a shag that you want to do it with someone you hate?"

         "Fuck you! I'm not desperate." he said, a pulse beating rather fast in his throat. "And... I... I don't hate you."  
          "You should." said Adam abruptly. 

       That seemed to be the end of the conversation. The silence stretched between them, only broken by the clinking of forks in their bowls as they ate. Eric stepped up to clean the kitchen alongside Adam and the proximity was doing strange things to him. It was like there was a band of static electricity between them, strung tight, raising the hairs on his arms and sending every nerve into hyper alert.

         Music with a steady beat continued to fill the air around them. As they finished the dishes, the words swirling through the air seemed to take on more meaning: 

_Talking love but I can't even read the signs_  
              Adam stood leaning with his broad shoulders against the kitchen cupboard, one of his long fingers playing with the lid of his cigarette lighter. As the song continued he looked up and their gazes caught. Eric couldn't tear his eyes away. 

_I'm sorry there was no one to apologize  
I'm so fucking sorry, I'm so fucking sorry_

             "You _should_ hate me, Eric." he said softly.

              The use of his name was somehow tender and pleading. Understanding was dawning slowly. This was Adam Groff after all. An apology from him wouldn't sound the same as most people. Holding his gaze Eric said carefully, "I did used to hate you. You're right. But I don't now... in fact... I kind of... feel... well, the opposite."

            With a confidence he wasn't aware he had, he moved towards Adam, and took hold of the straps of his overalls. Staring into his eyes was like sinking into a deep, cool pool, to the dimly lit, pebbled floor.

           "I've never hated you." Adam spoke so softly that Eric had to move his face closer to hear. "Mostly, I've just always hated myself." The sighing exhalation that accompanied this statement brushed against Eric's lips.

        Breathing in that sweet air, tinged with tobacco and oregano, Eric found a smile spreading slowly across his face. "Then it's time to stop. Stop treating me badly, and yourself worse."

         Their lips met, soft and pliant. Their bodies melding together. Wanting and accepting. And Eric wondered for a moment, when was it that he had truly fallen in love with the complex, infuriating, intoxicating Adam Groff. But then again, the answer was clear... it was while he was sleeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who has been following along with this tangled little love story - I hope you enjoyed it! I had planned to write another 10 chapters... But I've since decided that the ideas percolating in my mind would be better suited to an entirely new fic. So I'll hold on to them for now. I'm sorry to end the story already but it just felt right to leave it here. Hopefully it leaves you inspired to write your own xx


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